


Forgotten

by 18091989



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Love, but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 13:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19870486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/18091989/pseuds/18091989
Summary: The Commission seeks revenge on Hazel. Agnes gets in the way. I promise this will eventually be a romance piece but it needs to be sad to start the story off!





	1. Safe

They came in the middle of the night. Random hired thugs all dressed in black, without mercy or care. 

They only been in their little house a few months. The paint was still fresh. They’d settled quietly and without drawing attention to themselves. The odd couple, polite and happy. 

Hazel had gotten himself a causal job on a farm a few miles down the road. He loved the animals and the outdoors. He could come and go as he pleased, provided he worked the expected hours. Agnes hadn’t yet got another job. She spent her days baking and waiting for him to come home. It might have sounded silly, being a good little housewife, but it was all they had both wanted. 

A simple life.

The glass shattering of the kitchen window woke them both abruptly. 

Hazel, immediately in high alert, grabbed the baseball bat from under the bed and silently wished he’d kept his gun. 

“Stay here, keep quiet” she nodded and silently backed against the wall in her nightgown, pale and thin in the moonlight. Agnes knew the drill. They’d practiced enough times. 

Except this time it was real.

She watched him leave the room, arms wrapped around herself to keep from shaking. Lips pressed together to keep from crying out. 

It would be okay. Hazel would always protect her. 

He crept down the stairs, listening intently. Every muscle in his body taunt and ready. Grim work face on. 

Two men were in the kitchen, both preoccupied with rifling through the cupboards. What they were looking for he had no idea. 

“Hands up” his voice was commanding.

Something was wrong. 

Both men turned about. 

Smiling. 

“Agnes run! Run!” He found himself bellowing as both men sprang at him, weapons raised. 

A woman screamed upstairs, terrible and loud. Footsteps, more than he could count seemed to be running round the house. Doors were being slammed. 

It was a distraction.

He swung the bat unthinkingly. Screams echoing in his ears. He took the first man out quickly but more seemed to come, spilling from everywhere and nowhere. 

Something smashed and the screaming stopped. A body hit the floor upstairs. 

Hands were holding him back now. The bat was being pulled from his grip. The more he struggled the worse it got. He felt handcuffs snap on to his wrists, holding his arms in place behind his back. 

Heels clicked down the wooden floor of the kitchen. 

Hazel forced himself to look up, still struggling. 

The Handler smirked. 

“Took long enough to find you and you weren’t even hiding!” She shook her head playfully and tutted “Now I know you’re not the smart one” She unfixed her hair unnecessarily, drawing his gaze to the bullet scar at her temple. “Bring her down” 

Agnes was unconscious, carried by two of the men. Body limp and small. Blood matted her light hair and tricked down her neck. 

They threw her on the floor unceremoniously in front on him. He jerked against his captors angrily. 

“Time to wake up” The Handler snapped happily, kicking Agnes’s leg with the tip of her heel. 

“Don’t touch her” Hazel growled. 

Agnes stirred and whimpered. Hand going to her head, trying to wipe away the blood. Whatever had been smashed over her head must have hurt. 

“Don’t talk” Placing her foot on Agnes’s hand the Handler smiled, baring her teeth. She pressed down and Agnes screamed again, body writhing in pain as bones crunching under the weight of the other woman. “Listen” 

With her hand released Agnes cradled it against her chest, still slumped on the floor. She sobbed silently, eyes on Hazel. 

“You see, the Commission holds you, Hazel, and your companion here, Donut Lady, responsible for what happened to us. Everything that went wrong. My death, obviously” He struggled again furiously, a growl escaping his lips. “Ah ah ah” She waved her finger at him tauntingly and nodded at a man to her right.

He pulled out a small gun and placed the muzzle against Agnes skull causing her to whimper. Eyes big and afraid. 

Hazel wanted more than anything to hold her and tell her it would all be okay. But he couldn’t. Because it wasn’t.

“I must say your old partner had such a small imagination.” The Handler was enjoying herself. “Drowning in hot tub...so boring” She knelt down and took Agnes’s chin between her fingers, nails digging into her face painfully causing Agnes to gasp. Tears spilling from her eyes to mingle with the dark blood that still dripped from her forehead. “Shall we smash the bones in your other hand too, hmm? Maybe break one of your long legs?” 

“...please” Hazel struggled to keep his voice level “Please don’t hurt her” 

The Handler tutted again and rolled her eyes. “I said no talking” She released her grip and slapped Agnes cheek a couple of times. Agnes shut her eyes in response, tears had stopped falling and her lips had stopped trembling; brave to the last moment. She knew what was coming. “Shoot her. I’m bored and we need to get on with it” 

Hazel didn’t even have a chance to react to her words. 

The shot was clean and quick, body crumpling back on the the floor. Eyes stilled closed as if in sleep. Blonde hair fanned out around her head and blood pouring from a small hole in her white nightgown. 

He was crying. 

He wanted to drop to his knees and for the world to stop. 

They had been so careful. She had been so wonderful. 

“Bring him. And the body” The Handlers words were uncaring sharp, not one to bat an eyelid at gore. 

It was like his brain stopped working. Nothing could process. He barely remembered being pushed out of the house and into a vehicle. 

All he could think of was how she’d kissed him before they fell asleep last night. The soft brush of her lips against his. Her delicate hands caressing his cheek. The gentle giggle when he’d kissed her more roughly, more passionately. The way she’d looked at him. Her smile.


	2. Hopeless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hazel imprisoned, Agnes dead and the Commission happy...time for a surprise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter is also sad - the next one will be better and fluffier! Short chapter but the next one will be longer.

He didn’t know where they’d taken him. The room was dark and small. He did know they’d jumped but he didn’t know what time to. Hazel didn’t care anyway. 

His pyjamas were speckled with his blood and hers. 

He hadn’t kept track of time passing either. Just slept and worked out, trying to channel his anger into something vaguely human. The cell they kept him in was bare apart from a bed, a sink and a toilet. 

His beard had grown messy and his hair was a mess of damp greasy curls. 

The cell door swung open. 

Agnes stood there. 

Hazel blinked in shock, a worried smile playing on his lips. He nearly shouted for joy. 

“Help me” she whispered “I’ve been kidnapped...please...”

She was cut short by a womanly snort. “For goodness sake! Look at your face, what a picture” The Handler appeared behind her, grinning from ear to ear. “She’s not yours, an earlier model if you will” 

The other Agnes was wearing the pink Griddys uniform. Her blonde hair was up in the fancy updo she’d had when he’d first met her. Her eyes were the same; big and scared. 

“What a lovely reunion” The Handler smirked “Go ahead, say hello” 

She pushed the frighten woman towards him and Agnes stumbled on her heels and into his arms. It was such a natural thing to catch the woman he loved but she twisted frantically away from him, pushing herself against the far wall. 

She held her hands in front of her uncomfortably fingers splayed, the handcuffs stopping her from doing much else. 

She was terrified. 

“I don’t understand...please...just let me go home” She stumbled over her words. Hazel could see her hands trembling. Her eyes were dry, no hysterics or tears. 

“Agnes...” he felt himself whisper. His hands reached out to her lamely and she shuffled further away, back against the wall, looking between the two of them frantically. 

A cold laugh interrupted the tension in the cell. 

The Handler had actually thrown her head back and was cackling theatrically. So pleased with herself. A just punishment indeed. 

“She doesn’t know you, fool” Heels rapped agonist the bare concrete as the Handler strutted over to the cowering woman “She’s never met you, isn’t that right sweetheart?” Agnes shook her head fearfully clearly afraid of both of them equally. “Look at him! Double check donut lady” Roughly grabbing her by the chin and smirking the Handler forced Agnes to look up and meet his eyes. 

“I don’t...I don’t know him” she groaned trying to pull her face away. Pain flickered across her worn features. The other woman laugh cruelly. “I’m sorry...please, please can I go home?” 

“No dear” The Handler released her and sauntered back to the open cell door. “Time to go, we’ll try again tomorrow” 

Agnes didn’t move. Her back was still against the wall. Brown furrowed, staring at Hazel who straightened his blood stained top self consciously. 

“You know my name...” Her eyes narrowed in confusion, looking at him properly for the first time.

Hazel opened his mouth to speak, desperate to calm her, desperate to have the woman he loved back. The Handler cut him off.

“Of course he does, it’s embroidered on your dress.” She shook her head almost wearily “Time to go back to your own cell!” She flicked her finger, beckoning Agnes and arched an eyebrow. “See you tomorrow Hazel”


	3. Barefoot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes and lost lovers get the chance to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully a brighter and longer chapter! Enjoy.

Her pink dress, once bright and clean and beautiful (in Hazel’s eyes anyway), was now worn and faded. She’d lost weight, if that were possible, she’d been so thin to begin with. After the first few days she’d thrown her little pink cap out of her cell door, bobby pins clattered to the floor one by one in frustration. 

He’d been surprised that day when she’d been walked into his call with her hair down. It was messy but still lovely. It made him think of when they’d first run away together and he’d picked her up in the middle of the night. She’d fretted about her hair then too, though they’d both been more preoccupied with the romance of it all. 

Every day she was thrown into his cell.

Sometimes for seconds, sometimes for minutes but never for very long.

He could see how it was a fitting punishment and had he been his old self he would have praised the plan for its imagination. Killing the love of his life only to bring back a version of her with no knowledge of him, tormenting them both with only short chaperoned glimpses. Trapped in a loveless, cold and dirty reality. 

The cell door banged open, noise echoing in the big empty room. 

Agnes stepped into the room. 

She looked at him differently now than when they’d first arrived here. It had been fear that motivated her before, and he’d guessed she didn’t know if he was another of her kidnappers or a prisoner like herself. Plus he was pretty intimidating if you didn’t know him, even more now he was shaggy and dirty. 

The Handlers voice, sickly sweet, came from outside in the corridor. “You two lovebirds can be alone today” He could sense irritation in her voice “There’s been a development...and in any case her cell has to be cleaned, we don’t want her dying on us now do we?” 

The door slammed loudly. 

“Where are you shoes?” He asked gruffly. His throat was hoarse and tired.

“They were heels. They’d started to hurt” Agnes placed one foot on top of the other aware the mans cell wasn’t much cleaner than hers had been. The red nail polish on her toenails was scratched and chipped. 

“You’re not wearing shoes either” She nodded her head towards his grubby socks without a flicker of disgust.

“I...er, I wasn’t wearing any shoes when they took me.” He squeezed his eyes closed for a second, images of her screaming playing in his mind.

“Oh” Agnes signed gently. 

Hazel lent against the wall and found himself sliding down it into a sitting position. He didn’t have the energy left for this torment. He groaned and wiped his face with his hands, aware of the dirt and grease. 

“Can I sit next to you?” She was standing above him. She looked as tired as he felt. 

Hazel nodded sharply.

Slowly she sat down, leaning against the wall like he was with her legs stretch out in front of her. Her hands were still bound in the metal hand cuffs. 

“Do they make you wear those all the time?” He asked with annoyance.

“No, only when they bring me here” Agnes placed her hands in her lap awkwardly, making the metal click together. “I don’t know what they think I’m going to do. I’m just a waitress. I keep telling them they’ve got the wrong person but they don’t...” She signed heavily and closed her eyes “They don’t listen” 

“I’m sorry” Hazel wanted more than anything to reach across to her. He knew it would just scare her. He turned to look at her and saw tears slipping down her cheeks.

Agnes sniffed angrily. 

Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to blink away the tears that were forming. 

“I’m sorry... I don’t...I haven’t...urgh” She huffed angrily and wiped her face difficultly with the back of her arm. “I have tried very hard not to cry. Don’t know what’s set me off now” 

Hazel didn’t know what to say or do. Everything about their situation seemed hopeless and he had no conforming words to offer. 

The silence hung between them, punctuated by the occasional sniffle from Agnes.

“You know me” Her blunt words were a statement not a question. 

For a second he was going to deny it. 

She was still crying quietly, no matter how hard to tried to hide it. He turned his head slightly, knowing she’d be embarrassed if he saw her cry now. 

“I do know you” He felt her let out a trembly breath. Of relief or otherwise he didn’t know.

“How?” Agnes sniffed a little and sat slightly straighter. 

“We are...we were together, like a couple I guess” This time the breath she took as short and sharp. Shocked. “I don’t mean to freak you out....obviously I know you aren’t you. Aren’t...her” He was rambling and he knew it wasn’t helping.

“Together?” She wiped her cheeks and looked over at him in surprise. 

“Yeah” Hazel shrugged his shoulders. If he was totally honest he was surprised the Commission hadn’t already fed her some twisted version of their story. It seemed unnecessarily cruel to keep her completely in the dark.

“In...in the biblical sense?” Her soft voice hitched a pitch higher and she fussed with her skirt, smoothing the dirty fabric down to get rid of invisible wrinkles. 

In spite of the situation Hazel chucked “Yeah” 

“Oh” She’d stopped crying all together now. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. He knew she was processing. He tried to count how long they’d been kept captive in his head, how long had she been here in this hell? A couple of months maybe? 

“How...how did we meet?” 

He could see no point in lying. It was only fair to tell her everything, warts and all. Hazel turned to look at her properly, shifting him weight into a different seating position, she met his eyes slowly. 

“Your shop was shot up and you witnessed it” 

“Goodness” 

“I was assigned to find a child that had also been a witness” It wasn’t a lie. It felt like one. After all, she would have seen a child had she been there. “So we talked and you helped identify him. I came in everyday after that. Sometimes twice a day” 

“You must really like donuts” A very small anxious smile lit up her features. A ghost of a giggle. 

“I do.” Meeting her eyes was so wonderful. He wanted to take one of her hands as he thought of another memory but thought better of it. He thought of what she’d talked about during that lunch they’d shared, unplanned, out the back of her work. “You like birds”

This really did surprise her. Her eyebrows rose and she opened her mouth a little, questions building up. 

Hazel chuckled. It felt good. “You should see my bird spotting book! You be so proud, I ticked so many of them off!” 

“Really?” He could see she was genuinely interested despite the bizarre situation. 

“Yeah” He grinned at her and was rewarded was a soft smile. 

“Why are they holding us here?” 

It was an uncomfortable question.

“Because...because we took something theirs when we ran away” He gestured angrily with his hands at the door. Agnes listened, face passive. “The second time we ran away” He corrected himself. 

“We ran away twice?”

“Yeah” Hazel grinned again “The first time was pretty romantic actually” 

“Oh?” Agnes fiddled with the hem of her dress, not sure if she should be interested or concerned. 

“I asked you to run away with me randomly one afternoon. We’d know each other less than a week” He smiled, letting the big goofy grin that came with the memory settle in his face. “It was some first kiss as well!” 

“Yeah?” She peeked up at him shyly. 

He let out a low whistle and nodded. “I picked you up...it was great” 

He could feel her watching him closely. 

It was such a stranger feeling knowing the woman at his side so well and yet, technically the only experiences they really shared were the horrid ones in this cell. 

She moved herself a fraction of an inch closer to him, shuffling alone the concrete. The bare skin of their arms brushed and Agnes dipped her head down to conceal her blush. 

Their current setting was about as far from romantic as they could get. But now Hazel had a reason to escape. For them both to escape.


	4. Changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change of heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update. Enjoy!

The days were long and uneventful. To be honest with herself the highlight of Agnes’s day was when the guard came to cuff her, to take her to Hazel’s cell. 

Hazel was her light in the dark. 

Such an odd lost man. 

She could see his pain and the terrible losses he’d suffered, though he hide it well. She could see how another version of herself, a future version of herself, could have fallen for him so quickly. So easily.

She know for a while now she felt something for him. It had crept up on her. One day she’d stopped being scared of him and of the Commission. It was plain to see they were bored with her. 

Hazel was everything she’d ever wanted in a man; big, strong...and emotional. 

At first she hadn’t seen the attraction at all.

His story was more than unbelievable. They’d fallen in love and run away together after a few days of...of what? Of talking briefly? She shook her head and lay back in her bare mattress. 

Biblically. He knew her biblically. 

It was such an strange was of phrasing it. 

She liked the way he took his time over words. Careful and slow. 

Agnes wondered what it had been like, the physical side of their relationship. She was so much older than him. Had he been disappointed? Dissatisfied? 

The door to her cell banged open waking her from her musings.

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, offering her wrists to the guard who came in. Ready for the well played routine.

“Not today” The Handler smirked at her “We’re doing something different today.”

The guard stood motionless next to her. Agnes rested her hoovering hands on her knees, still seated. Despite everything she didn’t not like the change in routine one bit. There was no trusting her captors. Something was up.

A long metal trolley was pushed in by another stone faced guard, a sheet covering what lay on the gurney.

“Show her” The Handlers face was lit up with glee, as if she was presenting a child with a gift. 

The sheet was pulled back revealing Agnes body. Perfectly preserved.

“Fresh from death” the woman announced happily. “Just jumped back on today” 

Agnes had no idea what she meant. She was too stunned to react. 

It is impossible to prepare yourself for death, no matter how hard you try. Especially when the death is your own. 

The body lay flat with the head rolled slightly to the side. She was clothes in a simple white knee length nightgown with a round neck. It was a little shorter than Agnes would have chosen for herself. Had Hazel brought it for her? Looking past the bloody bullet hole and blood splatters she could make out small grey birds patterned on the fabric. 

Her eyes were closed. 

That was a blessing at least, Agnes thought. Somehow it would have been much worse if she’d had to look into her own dead eyes. 

Slowly and cautious she reached out to brush the stray blonde hairs away from her dead doppelgängers face, pausing to wipe the still damp blood droplets from the cold cheek. The Handler raised an eyebrow, clearly not the reaction she’d expectedly an old and frightened waitress. 

Agnes studied the face carefully. She wasn’t scared at all. Once she’d gotten over the original shock she just felt sorry for the dead woman, such a shame to cut short happiness. She moved her hand to hold the lifeless one and found it bruised and broken. 

Anger curled inside of her as her fingers closed around the battered hand. “Are you going to show Hazel next?” 

“No need” There was a gleam in The Handlers eyes “He was present for the live event!”

Agnes’s eyes widened in horror. She understood. “You did this?”

“Yes” the woman’s mouth twisted into a pleased grimace. “And we’ll do it again soon”

Agnes looked up at her slowly, expression horrified. 

Whilst a flick of her head The Handlers had the trolley covered back up and wheeled back out of the room. She followed it with a chuckle, hips swaying with the tap of her heels. At the door she turned dramatically and pointed at the body. “You’re looking at your future, Donut Lady” She pushed the door closed forcefully.

Agnes found herself rushing at the door, fuelled by rage “No...NO” she was screaming and shouting in a way she’d never done before. Scratching and pushing at the door. Banging her fists against the metal. She screamed till her voice was hoarse and the whole time that woman watched her. 

The Handler smiled at her though the bars. “You’re only making it better my dear; listen...he’s calling for you”

Her own heavy breathing was loud in her ears. It took her a second to adjust. 

It was unmistakably Hazel shouting from his own cell. Hearing him call her name was worse than anything that woman would have done to them. 

“I’ll give you a minute to tidy yourself up, dear. You’ve made rather a mess” The woman cocked her head to one side, throughly satisfied “The we’ll go see lover boy” 

Agnes gripped the metal bars tightly and watched her walk away. 

There was blood on her knuckles. She studied the torn skin carefully, barely feeling the sting. 

Hazel had talked about escaping a few times now. She hoped his plan was flexible.


End file.
